


Pillow Fight

by Greyland94



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Kisses, Pillow Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greyland94/pseuds/Greyland94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You get into a pillow fight- nay, a pillow battle of epic proportions- with Tom Hiddleston. So much fluff, wow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Fight

You and Tom Hiddleston are standing on a stupidly huge bed in his upscale hotel room. You're both in your pyjamas, have plump, fluffy pillows in your hands, and are swatting away at each other viciously. The room is in complete disarray, a flurry of white cotton sheets and down pillows all over the carpet. You’ve been battling for the past half hour, and Tom, all lean muscle and limitless, child-like energy, is giving no signs of relenting, though your arms are starting to burn from the effort. You suddenly get the feeling that he’s going easy on you. As you come to that conclusion-  
  
“En garde!” Tom shouts. Without warning, he whacks you directly in the face with an especially plush pillow, muffling your laughter and sending you crashing down on the bed.  
Taking advantage of your lack of defense, Tom pounces on top of you and tears your pillow out of your hands, raising it high above him, ready to strike.  
“Do you yield?” he snarls ferociously, brandishing the pillow like a sword. Despite the circumstances, he is very convincingly channeling the part of an evil knight sent to overcome the heroic champion.  
  
“Get off!” you laugh breathlessly, trying in vain to shove him off of you.  
  
“Do you surrender?” He ignores your pitiful attempts to break free, easily pinning you to the bed with an evil grin. “Or do I have to break out the big guns?” He raises his hands and turns them into claws, wiggling his fingers while growling in a menacing, decidedly Loki-ish tone; “tickle tickle.”  
  
“You wouldn’t dare.” All mirth has dropped from your face. “Tom, don’t you do it. I will straight up kick you in the face, and you know it.”  
  
Tom raises one eyebrow menacingly and slowly lowers his hands towards your sides, where you are most sensitive to tickling. You seize his wrists in an attempt to slow his advance, your fingers gripping deeply into his skin, but he’s too strong and relentless. “Do you concede?” he repeats as his hands get closer to contact with your body.  
  
“FINE! FINE! I surrender! Jesus!” you shriek doubling your efforts to get free.  
  
The super-villain façade slips from Toms face and he lets out a hearty “eheheheh”, lifting his weight off of you and allowing you to sit up. He relaxes back into a seated position, his long legs framing your own folded ones. “Was it really so difficult?” he chuckles.  
  
“You nutcase,” you pant, trying to regain your breath as you smack his arm good naturedly. You notice how cold it’s become in the room when you shiver slightly; goosebumps are erupting on your bare arms, as you’re only wearing the light t-shirt and sweat pants you use for pyjamas. The large window overlooking the New York skyline is open, letting in the cool air of the evening. Tom notices that you’re starting to get cold, and gets up to shut the window and turn on the heating.  
  
“Sorry,” he says, bustling around the room to pick up the white sheets from where they’ve been carelessly thrown about during your battle. “I had the window open earlier so I could take in the view. Of all the times I’ve been to New York, I still can’t quite get over how beautiful it is at night.” He plucks up a black knit sweater, draped over the back of a leather armchair, and comes back over to the bed to sit cross legged in front of you. “Here, put this on; you’re shivering,” he says as he uses the sheets and comforter to create a nest around your bodies.  
  
You gratefully put on the sweater. It’s huge on you, and extremely comfortable. Better yet, it smells like Tom, like soap and the cinnamon-y, distinctly male smell of the cologne he wears. It feels like you’re wearing a hug from Tom. You resist the urge to bury your nose in it and inhale deeply, instead thanking him.  
  
The two of you sit in peaceful, comfortable silence on the bed for a moment to cool off, listening to traffic pass 50 floors beneath you. You notice that Tom’s kind blue eyes have been fixed on you for the past few minutes, and you blush involuntarily under his gaze.  
  
You realize you’re getting tired when you find yourself considering just curling up in this nest of blankets. “Um, well, it’s getting pretty late,” you say, suppressing a yawn. “I should probably get back to my room.”  
  
Before you can get up from your (extremely comfortable, warm, bed) position, Tom begins to speak. “Can I… I don’t want to seem to forward… if you wouldn’t mind…” he stutters, suddenly nervous and unsure of himself in a way that is ridiculously endearing to you.  
  
“What is it?” You ask, smiling.  
  
In reply, Tom scoots closer to you and gently takes your face between his large, warm hands. He slowly moves his face closer, until his soft lips are pressing against your forehead lightly. He then kisses you chastely on both your cheeks, and moves away, grinning widely.  
You can just feel the blush on your face burning, and the three points where he’s kissed you feel hottest of all. You’re momentarily struck speechless at the sweetness of this gesture.  
  
“I couldn’t send you off just like that,” he explains. “Was that alright for me to do?”  
  
“Um..” You open and close your mouth dumbly a few times before simply nodding vigorously. His hands are still on your face.  
  
“Good,” he smiles, releasing you. “Have a lovely night. Sweet dreams, darling.”  
  
Only when you’ve reached your hotel room and clambered into bed do you realize that you’re still wearing Tom Hiddleston’s sweater.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't edited this really intensely, so please leave comments about any mistakes you might find. I really appreciate feedback of any kind, including constructive criticism. Thank you for taking the time to read my nonsense.


End file.
